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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098672">conversations, late night about how we gonna live</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/flow3rs/pseuds/flow3rs'>flow3rs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you were mine for the summer (now we know its nearly over) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Beach, Angst, Anxiety, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Public Sex, References to Depression, Sad Ricky Bowen (HSMTMTS), Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Summer, Summer Love, Teen Angst, but not that sorry, this is sad i sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:22:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,186</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/flow3rs/pseuds/flow3rs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>ricky goes to the beach at 2am to clear his head. instead, he gets something that will fill his mind for days to come.</p><p>or</p><p>ricky is sad and stupid. ej is stupid, too. but maybe he can make ricky a little happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you were mine for the summer (now we know its nearly over) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>conversations, late night about how we gonna live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tw: suicidal thoughts, ideation, &amp; attempt. references to anxiety &amp; depression as well medication and drugs. if any of this bothers you, pls do not read. ur health comes first!</p><p>this is pure angst but water u gonna do about it huh. shoutout <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichorborn/pseuds/ichorborn">ichorborn</a> for encouraging my love for angst and motivating me to write this even tho it lowkey might be Too Deep. i hope yall like this hehe its one of my faves.</p><p>title from 'midsummer madness' by 88rising</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Questions.</p><p> </p><p>He had a lot of them.</p><p> </p><p>What makes the sky blue? Do dogs dream? How is Zendaya <em> that </em> beautiful?</p><p> </p><p>Among other things.</p><p> </p><p>Why did Mom and Dad split up? Why did Mom leave me in this shit town so she could go to Chicago? How is it possible to have such a successful small business and still struggle to pay the bills at home? What can I do to stop walking through life like a zombie; not feeling anything and just waiting to get a bullet to the forehead or a baseball bat covered in nails to the brain or a katana to slice off my head or—</p><p> </p><p>When do things start getting better?</p><p> </p><p>Ricky has asked himself that question many times in his life. He has yet to receive an answer.</p><p> </p><p>He sat in the soft white sand of Broadway Beach; his favorite beach in town. It was where the locals went, the <em> real </em> locals; the ones who’d lived there for one too many years, who couldn't really get out of the small town and had accepted their fate. You could spot a tourist from a mile away: a one-day beach tag, umbrella for shade as if it were going to stay upright with the sea breeze blowing on it, a camera out to capture the different poses of those in front it wearing their new designer sunglasses and expensive swimsuits as if the old geezer next to them weren’t wearing the same swim trunks he’s owned since the first World War.</p><p> </p><p>It was his favorite beach in town. </p><p> </p><p>Especially at the ripe, old hour of 2AM: when it was quiet and empty and all to himself. When he could look to his left or his right and only be able to see about six feet before the darkness shadowed the world around him; when he could look straight ahead and watch the violent waves crash against the shore, silver moonlight reflecting onto his face as the horizon disappeared into the foggy abyss of the night. Beautiful and terrifying and wonderful all at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>He was brooding, he knew. That wouldn’t stop him from sitting here, staring into space while the rough wind beat against his face, eyes narrowed as the brown ringlets of his hair blew into them.</p><p> </p><p>He wished the wind would blow the intrusive thoughts from his mind; wished the questions would go away with a simple brush of the hair from his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>It was 2AM and his adderall had worn off and he’d missed a dose of his prozac this morning. Ricky wrapped his arms around himself, fists clenching and unclenching and leg shaking beneath him as he continued to overthink. </p><p> </p><p>His dad didn’t know he was here; thought Ricky was sleeping. But how could Ricky sleep when his dad was yelling over the phone at his mom? How could he sleep when his dad was hunched over the dining room table arguing with the pharmacy about the price of his medication? How could he sleep when his dad was looking over this bill and that bill and those payments and this month’s statement—</p><p> </p><p>Ricky sometimes wondered what it would be like if he just walked into the violent waves in front of him and never came out; how it would feel if he let the salt water engulf him and fill up his lungs. He thinks, maybe, that would be the best way to get away from this place; the most beautiful way to leave: in the ocean he loves the most.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t realize he actually did it until he distantly felt strong arms around him, pulling him to shore from the water. But Ricky didn’t want to be pulled from the waves. He wanted to stay there and <em> float, float, float </em>far, far away until he didn't have to feel anything anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Newsie, you fucking idiot! C’mon, c’mon, don’t fuckin’ die right now.”</p><p> </p><p>He heard a voice above him vaguely, but opted to let his eyes roll into the back of his head as his vision blacked around the edges.</p><p> </p><p>EJ looked down at the boy below him, hands wet and shaking as his brain strung together the CPR procedures he’d known for most of his time as a lifeguard. It was just a little harder to put them into action when the person he was doing the procedure on was <em> Ricky Bowen. </em></p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, Newsie, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” he mumbled to himself as he performed chest compressions on Ricky.</p><p> </p><p>When the younger boy still didn’t gain consciousness, EJ shook his head, droplets of ocean water running from his hair down his face. His clothes clung, cold and soaked, to his body as he reached down to check for any signs of breathing from Ricky. When EJ still felt nothing, he cursed under his breath and brought his mouth to Ricky’s, pinching the younger boy’s nose and blowing air into his lungs through his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>After one more attempt at mouth to mouth resuscitation, EJ ran his hands through his soaking hair desperately, about to give up and start panicking when the younger boy coughed abruptly. Water came out of his mouth as he turned on his side, catching his breath as he continued to cough up liquid.</p><p> </p><p>EJ sat back on his haunches, exhausted and catching his own breath as he stared incredulously at Ricky who had turned on his back once more and closed his eyes, letting his arms flop beside him.</p><p> </p><p>EJ stared at him, unblinking until he burst out with a high pitched voice, “<em> What the fuck </em>, Ricky?!?”</p><p> </p><p>He just smirked, eyes remaining closed. “Aw, ‘Ricky’? Not ‘Newsie’ anymore?”</p><p> </p><p>It was silent between them as EJ looked at him, eyebrows knitted in a deep concern and mouth agape before he snorted out a laugh. He sighed, moving his legs from underneath him to rest his arms on his knees as he held his face in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re fucking insane,” the older boy said, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Ricky commented, turning his head to look at EJ. “But my therapist told me I’m not allowed to call myself that anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>EJ rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you did that just to get mouth to mouth from me, Bowen.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, that was just a bonus,” Ricky stated, off-hand as he sat up from his place and moved to sit next to EJ in the sand a few inches away.</p><p> </p><p>Both boys sighed quietly, staring straight ahead at the ocean in front of them as their soaked bodies began to dry from the rough wind hitting them. Grains of sand stuck to their wet skin, course and itchy and in places that sand should never be. EJ looked at Ricky in the corner of his eye; the younger boy sat with his arms around his knees, eyes closed as he rested on them. He looked peaceful.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” EJ asked suddenly.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky scoffed but didn’t open his eyes. “I fucking hate when people ask me that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You just tried to drown yourself in the Jersey Shore, of all places. What else do you want me to ask, genius?”</p><p> </p><p>“If this is how you’re going to talk to every person whose life you save, maybe you shouldn’t be a lifeguard.”</p><p> </p><p>EJ looked out over the water once more as he replied, “I don’t talk to every person like this. Just you.”</p><p> </p><p>That comment made Ricky look over at him. Sometimes Ricky forgot that he’s known EJ since they were young; that they had watched each grow up into completely different people from the tiny 8 year olds at Ron Jon Surf Shop. His eyes followed the strong line of EJ’s jaw, the prominent veins in his neck, the hard muscle of his arms. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m tired,” Ricky sighed, leaning back on his hands and looking away from the older boy.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before coming to the beach at,” EJ looked down at the Apple Watch on his wrist because of course he had an Apple Watch. “What? Almost 3AM?”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky groaned in frustration, “I meant like— I meant I’m tired of...this. Of this stupid town and its stupid people. I’m tired of everything. I wanna get the fuck out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, did Holden Caulfield piss in your coffee this morning?”</p><p> </p><p>A smile tugged at Ricky’s lips as he quoted, “<em> That’s something that annoys the hell out of me </em> — <em> I mean if somebody says the coffee’s all ready and it isn’t </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” EJ wondered, confused.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you gonna compare me to Holden Caulfield and not know when I’m quoting the book that he’s from??” Ricky chuckled, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>The older boy grimaced, recalling memories of studying <em> The Catcher in The Rye </em> in high school. “I fucking hated that book. It was so depressing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m depressed so maybe that’s why I liked it,” Ricky snorted.</p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence for a few more moments before EJ spoke up again, hesitant. “Speaking of depression...you wanna tell me why you walked into the Atlantic Ocean at 3AM?”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky’s jaw clenched and he stared straight ahead. “I told you. I’m tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” EJ began softly, playing with a sand at his sides. “If you die, then who am I supposed to go back and forth with?”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky’s head whipped to look at the other boy and EJ looked up from where he was fingering the sand. They held each other’s gazes and Ricky couldn't help but get lost in the mysterious green color of EJ’s eyes. Sometimes they shone more blue, sometimes in the sun they looked hazel. Ricky didn’t know anymore and he didn’t really care. He just knew he loved those eyes; they were like washed up teal sea glass on the beach: smooth and soft and shining in the moonlight, clear as day and bright in the dark. Beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>“You can banter with Gina,” he replied, delayed.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, it’s not the same with Gina. It’s different with me and you. We have history, we have motives.”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky laughed, a real, genuine laugh from his belly that traveled through his body. “I’m still mad at you for stealing that boogie board from me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! I touched it first!” EJ argued good-naturedly, hitting Ricky’s shoulder with his own. Ricky doesn’t remember when their bodies got close enough to be able to do that.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I should get over my grudge since the little boy that stole the stupid boogie board just saved my life, huh?” Ricky mused.</p><p> </p><p>“Who knew those two idiot boys would be here now.”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky stared off into the sea dramatically, “Ah yes, the adorably handsome Newsboy ice cream shop employee and the obnoxious, Trump-supporting lifeguard.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Excuse </em> me,” EJ said, scandalized and bringing a hand to his chest, feigning shock. “I absolutely do <em> not </em> support Tr-Tru— Jesus Christ, I can’t even say his name without gagging.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?!” Ricky pondered curiously, turning to face the older boy directly. “I’m not gonna lie, you definitely look the type.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think that might be the most offensive thing anyone has ever said to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have you know that I am a Political Science major with a minor in Sociology who most definitely <em> hates </em>Trump and wants to go into politics for the greater good of the people,” EJ said, nose in the air.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky blinked at him. “I— I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”</p><p> </p><p>“I get into heated arguments about this with my parents almost every night, Newsie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where do you go to school again?” Ricky wondered, tilting his head to the side.</p><p> </p><p>“Eastern Coast University. Like thirty minutes north from here,” EJ replied.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky nodded, considering. He had applied there as well and got accepted but the thought of only being thirty minutes away from Cape May kind of turned him off from going, despite the fact that they had one of the best Aquatic Science programs in the country. He had yet to accept their offer but maybe now he’d reconsider…</p><p> </p><p>“What made you wanna be so close to Cape May? I feel like I’d wanna get as far away from Jersey as possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Same, but,” EJ explained. “My parents didn’t want me to go too far because they’re controlling and despite the fact that we’re pretty well off, they didn’t feel like spending too much money on me. ECU offered me a swim scholarship and they’re Division I so it was either there or <em> Rutgers </em> and that’s way too close to my parents for my liking.”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky listened intently; despite knowing each other for years, they had never really sat down and talked like this, never really got to know each other any deeper than the Bantering and Flirting and Teasing. Sitting there in front of the water talking to each other was...different. A nice different.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I ask you something else?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” EJ shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>The other boy’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are <em> you </em> at the beach at 3 in the morning?” Ricky prodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” EJ said quietly, mouth forming into a thin line. “Like I said...I get into an argument with my parents every night.”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky looked away, suddenly feeling like he hit something within EJ that had never been touched by an outside force before. “Uh, well. Maybe that’s a good thing. I’d probably be dead if you didn’t get into an argument with them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” EJ commented softly, searching Ricky’s face. “Maybe it was a good thing.”</p><p> </p><p>The boys sat close to each other in a comfortable silence, shoulders pressed together and warmth spreading through their bodies at the point of contact. Ricky’s intrusive thoughts almost slipped their way back into his brain in the moments of silence and it was almost as if EJ sensed that as he abruptly stood from his spot and put his hands on his hips, looking down at Ricky inquisitively.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” the younger asked curiously.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go skinny dipping,” EJ declared confidently.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> What?!? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard me, Newsie.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wish I didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon!” the lifeguard pushed, throwing his hands in the air. “It’ll be fun!”</p><p> </p><p>Ricky grimaced. “I am <em> not </em> going skinny dipping.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?” EJ pouted.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s, like, 3AM! I’m not going swimming,” the younger boy argued.</p><p> </p><p>EJ cocked his head at him, unimpressed. “It’s 3AM and you just walked into the ocean to try and kill yourself,” he said bluntly.</p><p> </p><p>The comment made Ricky open and close his mouth, trying to find an answer before giving up and groaning.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. I’ll swim, but I’m not skinny dipping.”</p><p> </p><p>EJ cheered triumphantly and proceeded to peel the soaked t-shirt he was wearing off of his body, making Ricky gasp. He tried to look away from the sight of EJ’s wet abs, he did, (he didn’t), but he just could not bring himself to tear his eyes away from the tan chest in front of him; the droplet of seawater dripping slowly down his skin, the hard line of his collarbones flexing as he threw his shirt on the sand.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky didn’t realize he was staring, mouth agape until EJ waved a hand in front of his face. </p><p> </p><p>“Hellooo? Earth to Newsie. You coming or not?” the older boy said, reaching a hand out in invitation as he stood above Ricky.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky looked at the hand in front of him, considering. He could ignore the invitation, pretend it didn’t exist, run away into the night and go back to his everyday zombie routine.</p><p> </p><p>Or he could put his hand into the strong one in front of him and allow himself to be whisked away into the moonlight reflected on the mighty waves, let himself take a chance on something that might turn into something good; give himself this one mythical moment that could possibly end in disaster or laughter or hatred or a wide grin.</p><p> </p><p>He chose the latter.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky put his hand into EJ’s; let himself be pulled up from the sand and it was nothing but everything at the same. He pulled his own shirt off quickly and let EJ lead him by the hand into the water, first just soaking up to their ankles and then deeper and deeper until it hit their waists.</p><p> </p><p>His feet sunk in the sand as the waves crashed into their bodies, laughing as EJ got knocked down by a particularly rough one and sprung back up, shaking the water from his hair like a puppy. EJ retaliated by splashing water into Ricky’s face, making him spit everywhere and from then on they kept splashing and pushing and kicking at each other until they couldn’t breathe from laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“Catch me if you can, Newsie!” the older boy yelled.</p><p> </p><p>EJ ran out of the water with a wide grin on his face, Ricky right on his tail laughing with crinkled eyes as he jumped on EJ’s back, knocking him to the sand.</p><p> </p><p>“That is <em> so </em> not fair!” EJ groaned, trying to wrestle Ricky off of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Who said I play fair?” Ricky smiled mischievously, holding down the other boy’s wrists as he turned over underneath him to face Ricky.</p><p> </p><p>Their smiles dropped, however, as they realized the position they were in: Ricky was straddling EJ’s waist, their faces only inches apart. They were so close that EJ could see the small freckles scattered across Ricky’s cheeks; so close that Ricky could see the turquoise specks in EJ’s eyes. So close that when Ricky moved atop of EJ, he could feel something hard beneath him in the older boy’s pants. Ricky didn’t think it was his lifeguard whistle.</p><p> </p><p>They searched each other’s faces, breaths coming out in short puffs as they grasped their situation. EJ was about to crack a joke when suddenly the younger boy leant down and—</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Ricky </em> ,” EJ gasped as he attached his mouth to EJ’s neck, right below his ear, <em> right where he liked it </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky licked up the prominent vein in his neck, making EJ shudder as droplets of water from his soaked curly hair dripped onto the boy beneath him. His skin tasted like a blue raspberry salt water taffy, like a palm leaf dried in the heat of the sun, like melted chocolate syrup dripping from an ice cream cone. Ricky swirled his tongue where EJ’s neck met his shoulder, unable to stop himself from tasting every inch of his tan skin. He didn’t really know where his desire to attack EJ’s neck came from, but he guessed the lack of adderall in his system was probably making him more impulsive than usual.</p><p> </p><p>He let go of one of EJ’s wrists to hold onto the side of the boy’s neck instead and EJ’s hand went straight to his soaking hair, gripping it tight and keeping him in place as he bit sharply on the skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” EJ whispered and Ricky couldn’t help but grind down into the older boy, his own hardness evident in his shorts.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky never thought he’d see the older boy like this: the perfectly styled brown hair now mussed up across his forehead, wet with salt water; eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moved a knee in between Ricky’s legs; quiet and breathy moans escaping his mouth as he gripped the back of Ricky’s head. All messed up and all for Ricky. The little boy who pushed him down and called him a baby. Maybe Ricky wanted EJ to push him down and call him baby again…</p><p> </p><p>As he ground against EJ he thought of what it would feel like to be inside of the older boy or to bounce on top of him and ride him or to be doing all of that and more in an actual bed. Ricky had never had even an inkling of these thoughts before this moment, but he knew from that second forward, he would never be able to fantasize about anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Their wet torsos rubbed against each other, sweat and salt water slicked skin glowing in the light of the stars. Ricky’s breath was warm against EJ’s neck and the older boy moved his hands from Ricky’s hair to his ass, bringing their bodies closer, the friction maddeningly good. He was embarrassingly close; it had only been a few minutes but just the mere thought of Ricky rutting into him, soaking wet with sea water and and mouthing desperately at his skin was enough to get the nerves underneath his skin heated.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky clung to EJ’s shoulders, mouth moving south and biting at the tan expanse of his collar bones as he mumbled, hips moving faster against the older boy’s, “<em> So hot </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He leant down a few more inches. “<em> So fucking hot </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Feels so fucking good, baby,” EJ groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into the freckled skin of Ricky’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> So beautiful </em>,” Ricky whispered before closing his mouth around EJ’s nipple and swirling his tongue obscenely.</p><p> </p><p>That was all it took for the older boy to go over the edge, back arching off the course sand and eyes rolling into the back of his head as he spilled inside his soaking shorts, rutting desperately against Ricky as his body twitched. He moaned, deep in his throat, mumbling broken <em> fucks </em> and <em> ahs </em> and <em> babys </em> and Ricky didn’t think he would ever get tired of hearing it.</p><p> </p><p>EJ’s chest rose and fell quickly, eyes closed as he caught his breath. He opened his eyes slowly and he thought he saw heaven, but it was actually just Ricky Bowen with shining, swollen lips and sparkling, lust-filled eyes, pupils so dilated you almost thought they were fully black. (So, yes, he saw heaven).</p><p> </p><p>Wasting no time, EJ pushed on Ricky’s shoulder, switching their positions and getting on top of him. There was no hesitation as he unbuttoned the younger boy’s shorts, fingering past his boxers and wrapping a hand around him. He kissed under Ricky’s jaw as he flicked his wrist quickly, making the boy beneath him gasp, breath coming out in sporadic puffs as EJ worked him.</p><p> </p><p>EJ reluctantly removed his mouth from Ricky’s jaw, but it was worth it as he watched Ricky’s face; eyebrows knitted, nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to stifle his moans. <em> I did that </em>, EJ thought to himself.</p><p> </p><p>He pumped his hand faster, thumb swiping over the younger boy. Ricky wrapped his arms around EJ’s shoulder’s, clinging to him as EJ hiked his leg up around his waist and held the back of Ricky’s knee in a tight grip. Something about the gesture was so possessive and it made Ricky’s heart beat even faster if that was possible; made Ricky see stars, whether they were the one’s shining in the night sky above him or hallucinations of his own mind, he didn’t really care. </p><p> </p><p>It all felt so good; everything was so <em> good </em> that he forgot how he got there in the first place; forgot why he had gone to the beach at 2 in the morning anyway. Ricky didn’t remember the last time he felt genuinely <em> good </em> . But lying here on the sand of Broadway Beach, the boy he once hated leaning above him, clothed in the light of the night sky and skating his nimble fingers across Ricky’s body, he thought <em> , This is good </em>.</p><p> </p><p>He reached the edge as a surprise; didn’t realize it was coming but then EJ kissed him gently on the cheek and that hit something for him, something harboring itself deep inside of him that he would be willing to hide if that small, intimate gesture didn’t bring it out. He shook underneath EJ as the older boy worked him through it, a shudder running through his whole body and every nerve ending underneath his skin exploding like the fireworks that went off on the Fourth of July. The types of fireworks so mesmerizing and loud and beautiful that thousands of people would flock to the beach to witness, if just for a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky came down from his high a few moments later, still holding EJ close to him, their bare chests radiating warmth off each other. The older boy placed one last little kiss on his cheek and rolled off of him mere inches away but Ricky already missed the way EJ’s skin felt against his.</p><p> </p><p>They lay there on their backs, staring at the sky in silence as they basked in the afterglow and caught their breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Feeling better now?” EJ whispered, breaking the silence first. </p><p> </p><p>The two boys turned their heads to look at each other, cheeks flushed and eyes soft.</p><p> </p><p>“More alive than I have in a while,” Ricky replied back just as gentle.</p><p> </p><p>They smiled at each, soft and sweet and innocent. Like the Extra! Extra! Oreo crumbles that EJ got on his ice cream.</p><p> </p><p>EJ’s eyes drifted down to Ricky’s lips and then their eyes met at the same time and Ricky thought, <em> This is it </em>, and inched ever closer until their noses bumped and their breath mingled and their lips were about to brush when—</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! What do you boys think you’re doing here!” a deep voice yelled, making the two of them spring away from each other comically as a flashlight shone over them.</p><p> </p><p>EJ shielded his eyes from the light before realizing who was holding it and bouncing to his feet with wide eyes. “Mr. Mazzara!”</p><p> </p><p>The voice walked over with narrowed eyes, shining the flashlight brighter at EJ and revealing himself as Benjamin Mazzara, the director of the Cape May Lifeguard Corps. (Also known as: EJ's boss.)</p><p> </p><p>“Caswell?!? What the hell are you doing here so late?” the man chided as EJ stood up straighter, hands behind his back as he held his crumpled up shirt. It was a good thing his shorts were wet already or Mr. Mazzara would’ve been able to see the...<em> stain </em> on the crotch of his pants.</p><p> </p><p>In the time that the man was distracted by EJ, Ricky tried his best to discreetly zip his shorts back up and finished as soon as the light was shone in his direction, making him shoot up from where he was sitting awkwardly. He crossed his arms over his bare chest as if he had anything to hide.</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Mazzara eyebrows knit even closer together as he recognized Ricky. “Lil’ Bowen from the ice cream shop? Does Mike know you’re out here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Ricky replied eloquently.</p><p> </p><p>The man shook his head, shining the flashlight between the two of them sternly.</p><p> </p><p>“You,” he chastised, pointing the light in EJ’s face and making him flinch. “A lifeguard of all people, should know that it’s not safe to swim at this time of night because of the rip currents. Plus you’ve got a shift in about eight hours. You should be sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” EJ responded quickly, shoulders hunched.</p><p> </p><p>“And you,” Mr. Mazzara scolded, switching back to Ricky. “A local, should know that you shouldn’t be roaming the beach this late. C’mon, you’ve lived here your whole life.”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand, Mr. Mazzara,” Ricky replied, bowing his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Idiots,” the man said, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>The pair glanced at each other awkwardly, tension palpable in the air as Ricky rubbed his arm and EJ shifted from foot to foot.</p><p> </p><p>The director rolled his eyes, exasperated, pointing back in the direction of the boardwalk. “C’mon boys, go home. Let’s get outta here. I’ll drive you home in the Jeep. Get in the back.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t wait for a response as he turned, walking in the sand back in the direction of his car, hands in his pockets as he mumbled about <em> stupid kids </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky and EJ scrambled to keep up, grabbing their shirts and shoes as they walked close behind them. As they trailed Mr. Mazzara, they snuck glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking, EJ scratching at the back of his neck and whipping his head forward when he noticed Ricky beginning to turn in his direction. They were silent until they reached the red Jeep, “Cape May Lifeguard Corps” painted in white on the side of it, and roof exposed.</p><p> </p><p>“Just hop in the back, you two,” Mr. Mazzara ordered, getting into the front seat.</p><p> </p><p>The boys did as they were told, still silent as they sat next to each other, afraid to be too close. They stared straight ahead as the man in front of them started the car and began driving and Ricky was on the verge of a full blown panic attack. His hands drummed against his knees anxiously, back stiff with tension and head swimming with thoughts of <em> regret </em> and <em> why’d we do that </em> and <em> I’m so fucking stupid </em> and—</p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted, however, when EJ reached over and slipped his hand into Ricky’s, sliding closer to him in the seat as Mr. Mazzara turned a corner. The man in the front seat couldn’t see the gestures because of the bench seats within the truck, but Ricky’s head whipped to look at EJ with wide, innocent eyes. The older boy continued to look ahead but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Ricky swore his heart melted.</p><p> </p><p>“Up left here, right, Lil’ Bowen?” Mr. Mazzara asked from the front seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” he replied, never taking his eyes off EJ.</p><p> </p><p>The car stopped in front of his house and it took all of Ricky’s willpower to look away from the older boy and reluctantly detach his fingers from EJ’s as he got out of the car. The streetlights cast the older boy in an angelic glow, skin still slick from the salt water of the Atlantic Ocean and Ricky never wanted to look away.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t let me see you out at the beach at this hour again, you hear me?” Mr. Mazzara warned, though Ricky wasn’t paying attention, too lost in EJ’s sea foam green eyes. He mumbled out an <em> mhm </em> when he realized the director was waiting for a response.</p><p> </p><p>“Say hi to your dad for me, alright?” the man said, turning the car back on and beginning to pull away from the house slowly.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky kept watching the car as it drove away, classic red Jeep riding down the historic streets of Cape May. He thought about the boy in the back seat of that Jeep; about the piercing, cruel eyes that made him cry and pulled him out of the ocean at the same time. He watched the car get smaller and smaller and was about to walk down the path to his front door when he saw the boy in the back seat turn around and rest his head on his arms to look back at Ricky one last time.</p><p> </p><p>Questions.</p><p> </p><p>He had a lot of them.</p><p> </p><p>What makes the sky blue? Do dogs dream? How is Zendaya <em> that </em> beautiful?</p><p> </p><p>Among other things.</p><p> </p><p>When do things start getting better?</p><p> </p><p>Ricky has asked himself that question many times in his life.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks, maybe, just maybe:</p><p> </p><p>He might’ve finally found the answer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ah ha ha eastern coast is not real but every other school in new jersey is gross except princeton and cape may!ej simply would not go there</p><p>also if it seems like i am romanticizing mental illness that is truly not my intention and half of what ricky goes through and says and gets told in this is like directly taken from my own mentally ill life lmao we love ✨projecting✨<br/> </p><p>  <a href="https://pin.it/6MRBYhP">look at the fic moodboard here!</a><br/><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0k9dkMT4OpTE0Lq4UK31Yr?si=yewGP6h-TFy0ZIaa2HBf6g">listen to the spotify playlist inspired by this series!</a></p><p> </p><p>BE MY FRIEND!<br/><a href="https://magentaful.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a><br/></p></blockquote></div></div>
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